


Deer Caught in the Bear's Eye

by rubydoe



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Erebor Never Fell, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - No One Ring, Dark, Dragon Sickness, Dwalin Is A Softie, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Growth, Hair Braiding, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Orcs are Jerks, Overprotective Dwarves, Protectiveness, Rule 63, Slow Burn, Stubborn Dwarves, Torture, fem!Bilbo, mirgating hobbits, mohawk!Dwalin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3099962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubydoe/pseuds/rubydoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>At first they hadn’t known quite what to do with her. Or what to make of her, in fact.</i>
</p>
<p>Where a hobbit is stolen away from her green hills and although her light wont be so easily taken, she's not quite sure how to get it back. She just hopes that all this pain will be worth it for something good in the end. Even if it's only to see her green hills once more before she leaves this world. However she never counted on meeting a bear amongst dwarves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to do something a little different. First chapter is a bit dark, just a heads up.

At first they hadn’t known quite what to do with her. Or what to make of her, in fact.

She had been traveling with her uncle and his three sons, excited to be anywhere but home. The trip would take them no more than two days and they hadn’t even been going very far. Simply between their wintering homes in Hobbiton to the man town of Bree just outside their protected borders. However for her, who had just turned to three and thirtieth year that fall, it was the furthest she had never been from home.

They were on their way back when they made camp in a small marked cave off the main road which had been shored up with branches and trees to keep it hidden from all but those who knew it was there. It was the same one they had slept in the night before and after two nights of sleeping on the hard ground, Bella had to admit she was already looking forward to her comfortable bed back home.

Regardless she was still happy she had made the effort to go. She could have waited till spring to make her first venture from the Shire, but she had desperately needed more lace for her party dress and hadn’t wanted to leave it to the men to know which type would look best with the pattern she planned to use. It had to be just right this year. Now that she was of age she would be open to courting and if she wished to catch anyone's eye before the migrations begun she was going to need to look her best. It was going to be yellow, she had decided. With posies embroidered along the sleeves and lace trimming along the skirt and collar.

Things had been pleasantly quiet. Their harvest this year had been better than most. It would ensure that everyone would be able to go through this coming winter with little fear of going hungry. There had been over eleven handfasting under the Party tree as well. With any luck there would be eleven very plump lasses come the spring thaw. She would miss watching over the fauntlings, she knew, but this year would be her in joining her parents in the summer migrations and she couldn’t be more excited.

So it had came as a hard shock then when Hansford, her uncles youngest, stepped out of their small shelter long enough to water a tree and was quickly set upon by orcs. The poor boy barely had time to scream before he was felled with a dark laugh and the covering to their cave was ripped open by a dripping red maw to reveal the three quivering hobbits remaining inside. Her uncle had stood fast before them, his small sword draw, face pinched in hard determination.

The leader, an ugly thing with a twisted face sat atop a mangy looking warg the size of a pony. The beasts head filled the entry to their burrow with its sour breath and gleefully licked it chops. It wasn’t until its master gave it a command in their dark, guttural speech that it dragged the first of them out.

Bella remembered little of what happened after that. Wanted to remember none of it if she could. Once the small band of orcs had finished with their spot she laid there on the hard muddy ground with most of her uncle laying across her lap. The warg had taken off with the rest. She wasn’t sure where too. Her hands were fisted in his filth covered curls and she nearly took him with her when the leader pulled her up into the air but the runed back of her dress.

With a laugh they had locked a collar about her neck. It was a big, heavy raw iron thing with jagged edges not meant for someone her size. Its sharp edges cut into her collarbone and along her shoulder. As loose as it was there was still no way for her to slip it off even had she tried. The orc holding her gave her a little shake which rattled her horribly once they had it in place. It caused the collar to cut deep enough to draw blood before they threw her into a box. They were kind enough to added some crude air holes, though; with a few sword thrusts which had nearly gutted her then before they nailed it shut and lashed it to the back of the warg.

The ride had been horrendous. With each leaping bound she slammed around the wooden box till she was bloody and bruised. When they camped they cut the box loose, letting it drop to the group, laughing when she cried out from within.

She wasn’t sure how long she traveled with them or where they were headed. Sometimes one of the orcs would shove bits of rotten meat in through the holes. Sometimes a bit of bone or even a severed finger. One evening she was lucky enough for it to rain. Even if it left her soaked through and chilled to the bone it had been worth it. Those first few clean mouthfuls had been heaven after so long without.

One evening, some time after the sun at set and the moon had risen, her prison was pried open and she was dumped cruelly to the ground. Beneath her splintered palms the fresh grass felt smooth and clean. She dug her toes into the dirt and breathed.

Around her the orcs kept their distanced and waited in anticipation. For what she wasn’t sure. Until her eyes caught sight of a distant campfire. It wasn’t so far away that she wasn’t able to make out the silhouettes sitting about it.

Travelers. Help. Her mind cried out. She knew she should call to them. Even from where they stood the group would likely hear her. However no voice would pass her lips. After the first days, when an orc with a pale eye had grabbed her roughly making a move to remove her tongue so she’d be quiet, she hadn’t said a word. He’d still had his fun, throwing her back into her box when he was done.

A sword tip was pressed into her back. It urged her to her unsteady feet. Their twisted faced leader was grinning as he jabbed her again. “Go.”

She was running. As fast as her feet could move after so long being locked away. She knew in the back of her mind that it was a game. Everything was a game. She was little more than a toy for them as they traveled. This wasn’t the first time they had set her loose only to run her down with a laugh, seeing which of them would catch her first. Or they’d send the warg after her if she went too far, to bring her back bloody and hanging from his muzzle like a hunted rabbit.

This time it was different. This time there was help. If only she could make it there in time. These people might be strong enough to defend her. To help her. To get her home.

She was almost too surprised when she broke into the light of their fire to understand why none of the men had moved. Why they hadn’t drawn arms even as the orcs made their way down the hill at her back. When her shaking hands grabbed the first by his arms with a desperate tug and plea for help the man had only slumped to his side.

Dark, cruel laughter. The orcs were grinning as she collapsed near the fire. She couldn’t even see the bodies behind the fall of her tears. The orcs must have ridden down on the camp before they had released her. Killed the men before propping them up. All for their sick game. All to feed off her pain, her sorrow.

When they tossed her back into the box, she turned on her side and curled tightly in on herself. She thought of the Shire. Of her books and warm cozy fire. Mostly she thought of her mom and dad waiting for her. They’d had long since sent someone out to find them. They likely thought she was dead along with her uncle and his boys.

She wished she was. She wished they had. Everything hurt in ways she didn’t understand. Her body, her mind, her heart. She hugged her legs tighter and wished for the darkness to claim her again. Even if it was only sleep. With luck it would be dreamless.

With even more luck she’d never awake.

 


	2. Chapter 2

They must have enjoyed their last game if they wanted her to pay it again. It was different this time however. They never did play the same game twice.

This time when they dumped her out onto the cold ground, it was a boot kick and a rough hand that had her on her feet. A foal, rancid rag was forced into her mouth as they gagged her soundly. Then they dragged her to the crest of the next hill and forced her down till she was laying out on her belly. Hard hands turned her head to make sure she noticed what it was they had wanted her to see.

It was another camp fire. No further away than the last one had been. Only this time the figures around it were moving. And now that she listened she would hear their voices on the wind and someone was playing a pipe in a high happy tune. None of them seemed aware that they were being watched.

With a dark chuckle the hands on either side of her face turned her head again. This time to the opposing hill. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be seeing at first till she noticed the thick shadow moving on its lower slope. The orcs had split up their party. They were going to ride down on the camp from either side this time.

The hands dropped back and the press of a blade returned. There was laughter in the orc’s voice when he gave the command, “ _Go._ ”

She was running. Downhill it was easy to move. But as easy as it was for her, it was just as easy for the orcs. Her eyes jumped to the other hill. They were watching from the top now, giving her a head start. It was more fun that way.

She was nearly halfway there. The camp was so close. If only she could shout out to them, give them a warning. But her even as her hands tried, they were too weak to remove the gag.

Behind her the warg threw back its head and howled. It was the signal. The orcs were running.

They were faster than her but she had the head start. In front of her the camp was on alert now. There was a shout and arms were drawn. They turned, facing outwards with their backs to the fire when she neared the very edge of the light.

Even as she screamed behind her gag one of the men moved, quicker than she was prepared for. He turned into her path, his blade moving to cut her down. She tried to stop. Tried to halt her forward motion but she simply couldn’t. She was too close, moving too quickly, to avoid his attack.

Everything around her slowed. She saw the moment his eyes, wide and bright and _blue_ , actually saw _her_ , small, gagged and unarmed. Not a threat. Something to protect. However it was already too late for him to fully pull his attack. His blade was too close, the distance to its target shortening quickly. He did manage to turn his blade enough for it not to take off her head. Instead it bit into the soft flesh across her shoulder and down her chest. She fell at his feet in a battered heap.

But that point it was already too late. The orcs were upon them. Screaming, screeching. The warg joined the fray with a joyous howl. It jumped over their fire with open jaws. The men were fighting with the ring of metal and battle cries. There were more of them than she first thought. She watched their feet with hazy eyes. The one who had attacked her was shouting out words she didn’t understand and suddenly the biggest of them all was towering over her. Defending. Protecting. She thinks its already too late.

Her vision was spotty. It wavered in and out. She wonders at how deeply she had been cut or if it was just exhaustion pulling her down. She wasn’t sure. It had been so long since she had last eaten and her sleep had always been poor. Everything simply hurt.

The sound of battle dimmed as her hearing starts to take on a humming sound. There’s a sharp yelp and the ratty head of the warg dropped to the ground a ways off from her. She looked at the thing with unfocused eyes. There is a part of her waiting for it to get up. For it to slither across the ground with gaping jaws to finish her off. Another part watched the growing puddle of red with something akin to hope.

Her head rolled back. It felt heavy and light and wrong. The large form was still standing over her. Protecting her. It swung with twin weapons. Each strike powerful. Each strike landing against that of an orc.

One. Two.... Three. The orcs fell and soon she was looking up at the stars. They were bright. When was the last time she had seen them? Everytime she closed her eyes she wanted nothing more than sunlit hills of rolling green. She had taken a dislike to the night. It was too dark. She wanted to feel the sun on her skin.

She shivered. She was dying, her mind whispered to her, and she was scared. Tears she didn’t even know she had left rolled down her cheeks. She was going to die in the dark. She’d never see the sun. She’d never feel it against her skin again. She’d die in darkness.

* * *

Thorin was cursing as he turned from the last orc, his mind caught on the sight of frightened wide eyes before his sword had come down. “Dwalin?” He called out to his largest warrior.

Dwalin was crouched, his face hidden in the shadows from the fire at their backs. “Still breathing. Don’t think the lad will make it though.” When he pulled back his big hands to rest across his bent knees his fingers were red with blood.

Again Thorin cursed. “Oin, get your kit,” he ordered briskly. “Dwalin can you move him closer to the light? Dwalin?” he said again when his friend didn’t move right away. But he needed have concerned himself. The larger warrior stooped down and easily lifted the too small body off the ground.

When Dwalin turned towards the light there is a chorus of shocked curses and their old healer is pushing his way closer. “Set her down! Quickly” Oin was already going for his bag. The grey haired dwarf has tossed his hearing horn to the side during the attack. He ignores it now, going for his back instead.

“Her?” Kili’s young face was pale. His eyes were as wide as he met his brothers standing at his side.

“Why did they have a child with them?” Fili, the golden brother, grasped his brother’s arm. To steady him or himself he wasn’t sure. Simply needing the contact.

“Questions later!” The healer snapped. “I need my bandages from my other pack. Bofur get some water up from that creek and get it on the fire. Hurry now!”

Dwalin had rubbed his hand clean against his pants. His friend’s face was grim. Thorin for his part did his best to keep his eyes on the young child. He watched her too shallow breaths. “I didn’t see her. She just came charging in.” His face was pained. Thorin looked to Dwalin when he remained silent.

The great warrior shook his head. “Was a dumb thing to do. Even if she was likely lookin’ for help.”

The sun was starting to rise when Oin leaned back exhausted and grim. “It’s the best I can do with what we got. The rest will be up to her.”

Fili and Kili sat some distance away leaning on each other looking uneasy. “Is that a collar?” Fili’s question had some of the other turning as well. They hadn’t seen it clearly in the dark. Now the heavy iron thing was hard not to notice.

“Aye,” Oin sighed. “Had to work around it. Couldn’t see a way to get it off without hurting her.”

Thorin stood at the child’s head. He almost wished for the darkness to return again. Her hair was matted, crusted in filth. Eyes sunken in a too thin face. Everything about her seemed too small and wrong for one her size. Her clothes were near rags and did little to cover her modesty and nothing to keep her warm. Oin had called for several blankets as he moved through patching up the worst of her injuries. The skin that still showed was blackened with bruises and cuts. She had been in the orcs care for quite some time.

“They kept her like a pet,” Gloin eyed the collar. Everyone seemed reluctant to touch her. They couldn’t help but think that she might break if they did.

Thorin forced his knees to bend and knelt at her head. With careful, gentle hands he lifted her head. “Oin, can you see if there is a catch to remove this?”

The old dwarf gave a shape nod before reaching forward to carefully turn the collar. “We’ll be needing a key,” he grumbled when the lock came into view.

Thorin frowned. “Check the bodies. Find the leader. He’ll likely have it on him.”

As the others moved as ordered, Nori, with this tri-pointed hair and sly nature slid up to their side. “Let me,” he asked lockpicks already in hand. He didn’t wait for their approval, his daft hands moving forward to pick at the lock with long practiced ease. It only took a moment before there was a strong click and the thing fell open.

If it was possible she looked even smaller without it on. “What do you want to do?” Balin, with his forked beard and deep, knowing eyes looked grim as he stood over their shoulders. The old dwarf had seen much in his time. But this? He had seen orcs do a many cruel thing but nothing like this before.

“How far to the nearest town?” Thorin asked as he carefully lowered her head to rest on the folded cloak someone had lent as a pillow.

The white haired dwarf hummed in thought. “A week back the way we came. Unless you want to leave her with the elves. I believe Rivendell is only a few days ahead of us.” There was a grumble at the mention of the tall race but given the circumstances they had little choice.

“We’ll rest here for the day. If she survives we’ll continue to the elves in the morning.” Thorin was aware how cold that sounded. Yet he knew what little else he could do. The poor thing had been tortured by orcs for weeks by the looks of it and he had nearly cut her down and finished the job for her. A part of him wonders if it might be a mercy if she was to pass on now. At least she wouldn’t have to live with what had happened.

Ori, the sweet lad, had set his and one of his brother’s bedrolls down under the nearest tree for her to rest on. Making sure it was an even, smooth space with no rocks or hard places. When Thorin laid her down, she weighed near nothing in his arms. He removed his own fur trimmed mantle and added it on top of the blankets already covering her.

If eyes continued to drift towards the blanketed mount under the tree throughout the day, no one made comment on it. They busied themselves dragging the orcs a good distance away to burn. Gloin grumped over the poor hide on the mangy warg. With the nights growing colder with the approaching winter it would have been nice to have an extra fur to share around.

Even so they gutted the beast and burned what they wouldn’t cook for themselves. It wasn’t the best meat but they wouldn’t allow it to go to waste either. Bombur pulled a second, smaller pot from his bags. He normally used it for making tea and other smaller things. Now he used it to make a simple, clear soup from the warg meat and a few greens he had picked near by. No one said anything when Oin added in a few herbs to help with pain. When it was done the round dwarf set it off to the side, covering it carefully to be reheated whenever she awoke.

Dori and Ori sat together one tree over from the girl. They worked away with busy hands and heads dent sowing together what looked like a small dress from their spare clothes. It was Kili who asked earlier in the day what they were up to. The younger dwarf had simply sniffled as his brother answered with a, “We’d not have her unclothed should she wake, or should she not.”

The day passed into night and still she did not wake. There was little humor around the fire that night. Thorin had them on watch in pairs as well, though he doubted they would have anymore problems with orcs for a while. It was unusual for them to be anywhere near this area to begin with. It had been part of the reason they had let their guards down. It had just sheer luck that none of them had been hurt worse beyond some bruises and a few smaller cuts.

In the morning she still yet breathed. So they made quick work of a small tree near by to make a litter as Oin advised against simply carrying her even if she weighed nothing to the strong dwarves. Before that however, with careful care as the rest turned their eyes away, Ori and Dori changed her from her dirty rags into the simple dress they had made. Once finished, Ori had moved off into the trees to be sick as Dori tucked the child into the blankets again.

“What is it?” Thorin asked in concern. The silver haired dwarf met his eyes before giving him a small shake of his head.

“The are vile things,” Dori hissed. “To do what they’ve done. I’d kill them again if I could.”

Thorin held his stare with a dark face of his own. “Let us content ourselves that she’ll come to no more harm in our care.”

Dori’s chest puffed out ever so slightly in a protective posture their leader had often seen him take in regards to his younger brother Ori. The lad had a good head, even if Thorin thought him a bit young to be traveling with them. However Balin needed the extra hands with their reports and Ori’s record keeping skills were second to none. Even as he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his mitten, the young dwarf had a fold of paper out and was already writing down notes. Should he asked, Ori likely had recorded every detail about their new charge right down to her injuries and appearance.

Thorin had Fili and Kili carry the litter when the headed out. His young nephews were so afraid of dropping her that they were quiet with pinched faces as they concentrated on their steps.

He caught Dwalin casting an eye back. “What is it?”

“Don’t know,” his second answered, turning his dark eyes forward. “Somethin’ feels off. Don’t like it.”

Thorin frowned. “About the girl?” His friend nodded but didn’t elaborate.

It was a hard march through the hills that day. They were skirting the edges of the mountain towards High Pass with the sun beating down on them. The all took turns to carry the little save for Thorin and Dwalin. Oin was fussing with the blankets covering his charge. He wanted to remove some so the dear wouldn’t overheat, but he was too worried she’d still catch a chill.

They settled down to camp earlier than they would have normally. Oin wanted to check her dressings and to see if he could wake her enough to drink something. Bombur had carefully packed the broth he had made and was eagerly warming it by the fire.

Oin enlisted Dori’s help again to ease the small thing up enough to see if she’s take some of the borth. At the first drop of moisture, the child’s chapped lips opened eagerly and soon her own shaking hands were rising to cup the bowl being held to her lips. Some of the company grinned and when Oin pulled the bowl back to fill it again her eyes finally came open.

And just as fast she was running. Though she didn’t get very far as her feet got caught up in the blankets and then there were strong arms around her. She fought back screaming as voices raised but all she knew was that they had her surrounded, trapped by the firelight. They never did anything good when they had her about the camp. She was crying and begging, “Please, please, please,” She couldn’t take anymore.

Dwalin’s heart had never ached the way it did in that moment as the girl struggled and fought against his hold. It hurt, that she would be so frightened of him. He wanted nothing more than to let her go and convince her that he wasn’t hurting her but he knew that doing so would only cause her to further injure herself in her attempt to flee. Her eyes, so big and pale blue were filled with unseeing tears. As he watched they began to dull and she started to fall limp in his arms.

As her head rolled limpy to the side he had the startling realization. “She’s a halfling.” His eyes were fixed on the elven like points of her ears.

“What?” Thorin strode closer with Balin at his side.

“Would you look at that,” Balin said with some wonder. “I haven’t seen many of their folk in some years.”

“Didn’t many of their clans die out?” Thorin crossed his arms with a frown.

Balin crouched a bit, taking in her larger than normal feet. Really they should have noticed before but with everything that had happened, they hadn’t felt comfortable looking too closely. “Some. I hear they’ve settled in a protected valley some ways west. Though I haven’t any idea where abouts.”

“So, she’s a halfling?” Kili and his brother drew near as Dwalin carefully lifted her into his arms. “She’s got pointed ears! Like an elf,” he exclaimed.

His brother was eyeing her feet with interest.

“Stop gawking,” Thorin’s sharp voice lashed out. “Regardless, we’ll leave her with the elves tomorrow and continue on.”

“I think, Master Dwarf, you will be leaving her with us now.” Everyone stilled when the elves stepped into the light.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The elves were quick to whisk away the halfling. They wrapped her in one of their shining cloaks and rode off quickly without so much as a backward glance.

Thorin was ashamed that they had been so easily caught off guard again. First it had been the orcs and now elves. To be caught unaware twice was damning. A third time and they might just as well end up dead.

As it was the elves took their weapons and kept them tightly ringed together as they were lead the remaining distance through the hills and towards a hidden pathway they hadn’t even been aware was there. They had believed Rivendell to be another day off. Clearly that had not been the case.

Thorin had heard tales of the beauty of Rivendell. Yet he could see little. The elven kingdom was built along the inside of a mist covered valley over a rushing river which had likely lead to its name. The buildings were white, arching and far too open for his tastes and lacking in their defenses. The landscape itself would aid in its protection, he did note. The ground was sharply sloped towards the valley floor, the elven buildings built atop pillars were connected with narrow bridges of smooth stone which no army would be able to march across.

They are lead across one such open bridge as they entered the kingdom. Far below a river rushed all white and foaming. More than a few of his company fought to keep their eyes, and feet, away from the edge. None want to fall to their deaths here of all places should they get a little too close.

Thorin does his best to stand tall at the sight of the elven lord waiting for them at the end where the pathway opens into a round courtyard. He searches his mind for the name he knows is there. “Lord Elrond,” he greets with a heavy nod. At his back the other dwarves come to a stop. They’ve positioned the youngsters in the middle and are glaring defiantly at their host.

“Prince Thorin.” The dark hair elf regarded him with a hard stare. “I’d hear your defense,” he said without ceremony.

Gloin at his back sputtered, “Defense?!” The others rose their voice even as their guard shifted their stance. “You came upon us!”

“Enough!” Thorin snapped back and instantly they cowed. Slowly he turned back to the elven lord. “I would hear what I am being accused of first.” Again those eyes and silent stare. How he hated the way elves looked down upon him and his kin. They had not come here to be judged.

He hadn’t been aware he had said the words till one of Lord Elrond’s slim dark brows rose and Thorin silently cursed himself for such a slip.

“It was my understanding that you had not come here of your own will, but at that of my guard. Now I will only ask one more time, Thorin, son of Thrain, Prince of Erebor, what is your defense for the crimes you have committed against the Shireling?”

There was a hush beside him. A few of his dwarves even looked away shamefaced. Thorin held himself taller, his shoulders back. He had pride, yes. But his honour was greater than that. “I do not deny striking her.”

“But there is something you do wish to deny,” the elf said evenly.

“It wasn’t his fault!”

“Kili!” Thorin hissed but his younger dark haired nephew pushed his way forward.

“She just ran into our camp,” the younger prince continued on.

“So this justifies the tortures you put her through?” Lord Elrond’s face twisted into one of disgust. He turned his head from them to command his men when another voice shouted out from the cluster of gathered dwarves.

“We didn’t do that!” Fili now pushed forward to bracket in his uncle from his other side. There was a chorus of agreement and nodding from the others at their back.

The lord’s expression smoothed back into its normal even mask and although Thorin would not voice it he was thankful to his sister-sons for their intervention. “While it is true that I did strike her, we are not to blame for her other injuries.” When the elf continued to stare Thorin sighed. It seemed he was going to have to give a full account of the events. “We were camped when we fell under attack by a pack of orcs from the north. It was at that time the girl rushed into our camp-”

“It was dark!”

“Yeah! He didn’t know she wasn’t an orc.”

“Quiet!” Thorin snapped and his young sister-sons cowed back. Balin cleared his throat softly at his back. It was a sign the advisor used when he wished to speak and was seeking his permission to do so. He tilted his head even so slightly to the right. A sign for him to say his mind.

“If I might, Lord Elrond.” The white haired dwarf stepped forward. He smoothed a hand over his forked white beard. “While Prince Thorin is, in part, responsible for the halfling’s current state of being. We have done our best to see to her injuries and were on our way here when your men came upon us.”

Lord Elrond regarded them with dark eyes before he hummed thoughtfully. “I sense no lie in your tale, master dwarf. While you did harm her, it was unintentional and done in the midst of battle.” He spoke a quick command in elven to his attend before turning back to them. Their escort also lowered their weapons, stepping back a pace to give the dwarves more room. “I will leave you in Lindir’s care. I hope to be able to speak more with you during dinner.” With that he left up the stairs at his back.

Lindir, a dark haired elf with an unsmiling face, stood with hands clasped behind his back. It was clear to all that he’d rather not be there either and wasn’t quite able to hide his dislike for the dwarves which had been placed under his care. “If you will follow me, I will show you to your rooms and where you may wash for the evening.”

Their rooms were set around an outside stone courtyard further within the heart of the city. Though the hallway was covered, it was built to be open towards the yard. It gave any housed there a wonderful view of the large fountain in its center, but the dwarves couldn’t help but think it meant little when it left anyone who stepped from their rooms open to the elements and the evenings had started to become quite cool.

The baths were near enough that none would get lost, despite the illogical way the elves liked to design their homesteads. Deep carved pools of pale stone sat within, thankfully, closed rooms. A few were larger, allowing for more communal bathing. For elves they build much of their kingdom in stone and while the dwarves did approve, they tutted to themselves over the lack of care the tall folk used in handling their beloved medium.

While the dwarves didn’t go so far as to thank their guide, they did stop glaring at him quite as harshly. Not that this meant they were happy with the given arrangement. While each was given their own room, a wonderful thing if not for the nature of their hosts, they would not be locked away from their own kin. After looking through each room it was decided since none was larger, nor grander than the last - a small slight to his prince-hood Thorin thought - they chose to share the room nearest the hallway since it would prevent them from being cornered into the space if need arose.

After moving the bulk of the furniture out, to which they did leave the bed which Thorin and his sister-sons would claim for the night, the company moved about setting up camp. It would be tight with all thirteen of them in the single room, but they had shared worse before and at least it would be warm and dry.

As for bathing, while they were all excited at the idea of being clean, none were too keen on using the elven baths. Instead, to the great horror of some elves who passed, they chose to bath in the open fountain. Thankfully but this point it was late enough in the evening that most of their shame was hidden in the shadows and they weren't on complete display to their hosts.

The group was clean and hungry by the time Lindir returned to bring them to the dinner halls for supper. The light, plucking of strings and the too high notes of elven flutes reached them long before they entered the room. Already their party was showing their distaste for the noise with mumbled complaints. Thorin cast them a hard look but it did little to deter their open displeasure at everything elven.

His companions were shown towards a large banquet table while Prince Thorin, and two of his choosing, would be allowed to dine with Lord Elrond at a smaller table atop a dais tucked into a shallow alcove which gave a stunning view of the valley and offered some privacy.  

Thorin settled in his chair between Balin, his advisor and Dwalin, his guard. Across from them Lord Elrond nodded his thanks to the elven servant who placed several dishes onto their table. To the dwarves ever growing unhappiness it was nearly all greens. The only meat to be seen came in the form of some small silver fish which had been stuffed with… more greens.

“I must command your healer,” Lord Elrond said in opening. “He did well tending the Shireling with so few tools.”

Balin lowered his head. “Great praise. I will make sure he hears of it.” Thorin kicked Dwalin under the table when he started to snicker. Not that the elf missed the exchange. He simply decided not to mention it.

“I have done my best to heal what had been done to her body. I have no account to how well her mind still fairs. For now I have placed her in a healing sleep. She will be weak, but fit enough for travel by week’s end.”

“That is good to hear,” Thorin nodded. “I will admit that we were unsure whether or not she would survive.”

“As I said,” Lord Elrond continued. “She will be weak. They nearly starved her to death, on top of the other horrors they placed upon her. So I ask for you to be patient till the end of the week.”

Thorin felt Balin and Dwalin still along side him. He lowered his fork back to his plate. “We had planned on leaving the halfling in your care,” he said slowly. “We plan to continue to Erebor at first light.”

Lord Elrond leaned back in his chair. “So you will not take responsibility for your actions?” Thorin stiffed and his company at the other table suddenly fell silent. The elf continued. “I had taken you for a dwarf of honor. Are you in such a rush that you are unwilling to delay your travels to aid someone in which you owe a debt?”

Dwalin grumbled under his breath in their native tongue. _“He’s right, you know.”_

 _“I am aware,”_ Thorin replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the elf.

Balin leaned in on his other side. _“We need to see her back to her people, Thorin. Then our part in this is done and we can be on our way.”_

“You only need to take her with you over the mountains,” Lord Elrond added, as if knowing their conversation. “With her kinsmen gone down to winter, you will never find them yourselves. Their burrows are well protected.”

“Then how do you purpose we find her kin?” asked Balin.

“There is one, a skinchanger by the name of Beorn. He watches over the lands north of the Anduin valley between the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood. He will know where to find her kind. You simply need to bring her to him.”

Dwalin crossed his arms. “I thought her kin were in the east.”

“Her clan, yes. There are two major Shires, one on each side of the mountains made up of many family clans. During the spring and summer months her people migrate all over Middle-earth. But they always return for the harvest months before winter. Many of these clans meet up during those wandering times. They will ensure she finds her way back home.”

Thorin looked thoughtful, if not a little suspicious. “For a people you said who scatters themselves across the lands, they are decidedly unnoticed.”

“Which is how they choose to remain. Those who do leave the clans often find work as thieves or spies within the cities of Men. They are notoriously light footed and have a knack for going unseen when they choose to. Most, however, stay within their clans unless they leave by way of marriage.”

Thorin did not need to look to his companions to feel their pointed looks. He did his best to halt his heaving sigh. They were already behind in returning home as it were. Another week would only set them even further behind however he saw little for it. His inattention had nearly cost her her life and he'd be an honourless dwarf if he didn't at least see her returned to her people after everything she had been through.

That didn’t mean he was happy with the whole situation.

“Don’t look so sour,” Dwalin matched his long stride as they headed back towards their room. “None of us like bein’ stuck here either,” he said to his prince.

“She will only slow us down.”

“Aye, she will,” the warrior agreed. “Likely cause some problems too.”

Thorin cast him a look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, with her being a lass an’ all. She’ll be a distraction,” he answered gruffly.

His feet slowed with a thought, but with a shake of his head he continued on again. “Regardless. We will see her to her kin and we’ll continue home.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

When they returned to their rooms after dinner that night it was to the pleasant surprise of their returned weapons. With an appreciant cheer, the group moved swiftly to where they had been placed neatly on the singular table they had left within the room. Many of them had felt naked being unarmed and Thorin took it as a good show of faith from their hosts to have them returned to them. As much as he still detested the fact that they had to remain within the city for longer than they had planned, it was nice to at least remain there armed.

The news of their longer stay did not sit well with his company.

“Quiet!” Dwalin’s bellow had them settling down as Balin stepped to the center of the room.

“Now, now. There is little we can do about it. We need to give the lass a few days before she’ll be able to travel with us.”

Nori looked up from checking over his daggers in the corning. “So we’ll be taking her with us then?”

“What, all the way to Erebor?” Ori asked with a confused tilt to his head. The others murmured at this.

“No,” Thorin met their stares. “We’ll take the halfling with us across the mountains and we’ll be leaving her with her kin on the other side.” There was a slightly grumble at that. All were eager to get home and none enjoyed the thought of any more delays.

“Will we still get back in time?” Fili asked his uncle, his brother leaning against his side looked up as well.

His eyes cut over to Balin. The white haired dwarf gave a sigh. “It will be tight. But aye, we’ll still get home in time for Durin’s Day.” The company smiled happily at that.

“Get some sleep,” Dalwin snapped to settle the bunch. “Gloin, you take second watch. Nori you’re on third,” he said as he turned towards the door to take first.

Kili was frowning. “Why do we still need to set watched? I doubt the elves aren’t about to let a pack of orcs wander in at any moment.”

His brother elbowed him. “I think it’s about orcs, Kee.”

For the next three days the elves left them in relative peace. Although when Dori and Oin expressed an interest in seeing how the halfling was fairing they were surprised to discover that they weren’t permitted to enter the healing rooms on Lord Elrond’s orders.

This didn’t sit well with the dwarves who by then - for some reason which Thorin could not quite understand - had began to worry that perhaps the elves were mistreating the poor thing. It went so far as for Nori to attempt to sneak into the rooms through an open balcony only to be caught by a pair of elven guards. So it came as little surprise when Lord Elrond summoned Thorin, Dwalin and Balin to meet with him later that afternoon just as the first drops of rain began to fall.

“Gone?” The single word was grated out from between Dwalin’s clenched teeth.

Their host simply watched them with an even, black expression. “As I said, she has been in a healing sleep these last days. She must have awoken in a panic.” He rose a hand to still their protests. “I assure you that my people are already looking for her. I simply wished to inform you should you come across her. I do not believe she will get far. She is still quite weak.”

Dwalin was cursing colourfully as they headed back to the others. The rain was coming down in heavy waves now, forcing them to walk closer against the wall to avoid the thick droplets coming in from the open hall. Though Thorin was sure his guard’s anger at little to do with being wet and more with the fact that the elves had gone and lost the halfling.

Balin’s face was grim. “The others will not take this news well.”

As such as they rounded the corner it was to find some of the company already waiting for them just outside their room. Bofur, Kili, Ori and surprisingly Bifur all watched as they approached but Thorin was quick to silenced their questions before signaling for them to come back inside.

Bombur had moved their campfire indoors and was cutting up some root vegetables to add to a pot of slow bowling water. They would likely need to leave a window open so they didn’t risk filling the room with smoke but the warmth of the fire would outweigh the cooler air coming in. Already the space was plenty warm enough and Thorin shrugged out of his cloak to let it dry near the fire.

“How was she, uncle? Did Lord Elrond let you see her?” Fili asked as his brother settled back down next to him on the edge of the bed.

“No, I did not see her. It seems she’s managed to escape.”

“What?!” Oin lifted his hearing horn to his ear as the others jumped into various states of outrage and disbelief. “Escaped you said?”

“Quiet!” Dwalin’s shout again had them settling.

Thorin took a second to make sure they were quite done when he noticed Kili slipping back into the boots he had kicked off. “You will not be leaving this room.”

“But-” Kili looked ready to protest but leaned back into his brother at their uncle’s hard stare.

“That goes for the rest of you,” he looked about. “I’ll not having you wandering about this place in search of the halfling. Leave it to the elves.”

There was a lot of unhappy mutterings and shared looks. Balin even graced his prince was his own disapproving stare but he saw little for it. He would not have his people lost wandering the elven halls. They only had a few more days before week’s end and then they would be allowed to depart. If the girl could not be found by then,Thorin would count himself lucky and they’d be able to depart right away.

His hand rubbed over his chest and told himself that hard twisted feeling there wasn’t guilt.

The rain did not let up the following morning and everyone was a little on edge from being in such close quarters for too long. So it was of little surprise when young Ori stood up all puffed up and red cheeked. “Which one of you too my scarf?” He demanded, eyes scanning over the room.

“You’re wearing it, lad,” Gloin pointed out with an absent minded wave of his hand and turned back to his discussion with Dori who simply shook his head.

Ori’s face reddened. “No, not this one. The other one. The green one,” he insisted.

Thorin sighed. “Fili? Kili?”

“What? Don’t look at us,” Fili frowned.

“Yeah. We didn’t take it. And besides one of Fili’s knifes is miss- ouch.” Kili winced at his brother’s well aimed kick.

Bombur looked about a little nervously. “I didn’t want to say anything, because I wasn’t sure that someone hadn’t snacked during the night but…”

“What is it, Bombur?” Dwalin pushed himself from the doorframe of their room. “We missing something else?” The cook nodded. “So we’ve had a thief in our room.”

All eyes turned to Nori. “Don’t look at me,” he glared right back.

Balin moved to stand at his prince’s side. “A scarf, knife and food. Doesn’t sound so much a thief as a-”

“Halfling,” Thorin finished a scowl. “Who’d we have on watch last night?”

Balin hummed thoughtfully. “Bofur, Bifur and Dwalin. But they watched outside the door.”

The prince rubbed a hand over his eyes and turned his head to see the open window. “And she didn’t use the door.”

“It would seem not, no. Should we inform our host?” he asked after a moment.

“No,” Thorin leaned his elbows on his knees. “Leave it for now. We’ll see if anything else goes missing or if the elves find her first.”

* * *

Dwalin was coming back from taking a piss.

Really he shouldn’t have moved off so far from their room but he had his axes and had found a lovely balcony which overhang a garden and sitting bench below that had needed a little extra watering. If the first time he had gone there an elf had had the misfortune of sitting there, well all the better. He still grinned at the thought.

He was coming back around to their room when he noticed the edge of Ori’s missing green scarf tangled in the branches of a passing hedge. He plucked up the edge of the wet woolen wrap only to find it firmly anchored to something within the shrub itself. He lets it fall from his grasp and pulled an axe. He had been careless. It could have well been a trap yet set to catch one of them unaware… Yet when he pushes back the thick branches with a heavy arm and the flat side of his axe, he finds their missing halfling.

The other end of Ori’s scarf is caught under her. Fili’s missing knife a few inches from her lax figures. She’s ghostly pale and soaked through laying unconscious on the ground. He had no idea how long she’s been out there or how no one had found her yet. It’s a simple enough thing for him to reach down and pull her up into his arms. She weighs near nothing. Her clothes and wet bandages cling to a too bony frame and she’s icy to the touch.

But alive. She’s breathing still, be it a bit shallow. He’s headed back towards the room without another thought.

He comes in dripping wet from the rain and from the water running off her and makes a beeline directly for the fire. He lays her as close as is safe and calls for Oin. Their healer, already moving when he had seen him come in, is at her side in a moment. Quickly joined by Dori and Ori.

“She’s soaked right through. We’re going to need to get her into something dry,” Oin says with a huff. “And get her warm again. I fear she might fall to illness if we cannot get her body temperature up again.”

“Do what you have to,” Thorin orders. “Balin, come with me. We should inform our host we’ve found her.”

“Aye, best to do it now,” he agrees and the pair leave the room.

Dwalin closes the door behind them and barks at Kili to close the window a bit more in a bid to warm the room. Bifur has already added a few extra bits of wood to the fire for that same reason.

Oin is using a small knife and his steady hand to cut her ruined bandages off as Dori and Ori flutter about looking for something for her to wear. They had already given up their spare tunics to make the dress they had given her and now look to the others. In the end they end up with one of Kili’s spare shirts which, surprisingly, turns out to be one of the cleanest they have and have gathered nearly everyone's blankets together.

With a care, and as the rest of them turn away - Gloin cuffing Kili when he tries to sneak a curious peek - as Doir, Ori and Oin see her changed into the much dryer clothes and bundles in their blankets.

Even still Oin is tutting over it. “She’s still far too cold. I’d have one of you crawl in with her but I fear she might not react well to that when she wakes.”

Fili eyes the large warrior still standing at his place by the door. “Why not have Dwalin hold her? He gives off heat like one of the great forges.” Kili nods beside him.

“It’s a thought,” Oin gives Dwalin a considering look but the other dwarf simply scowls back. “But again, I’m worried how’d she react when she wakes.”

Bofur has come around the fire to take a closer look. There is a frown in place as his usual smile. “She might not wake if she’s too cold. I’ve seen it before.” Both Bombur and Bifur nod.

Oin gives a sigh. “Aye, you might be right there. Guess there is little point in fussing over propriety. Come now lad, you might as well get yourself settled. You’ll likely not be moving for a time.”

“Do I not get a say?” Dwalin growls, making no effort to move from his place.

“No. Now hurry up.”

Fili and Kili are looking a bit more uneasy now as Dwalin sits himself down against the inner wall. “Maybe Dwalin isn’t the best choice,” Kili comments.

“Yeah, maybe we should pick something less…”

“Frightening?” Ori offers before ducking down meekly with a squeak when the warrior in question turned his sharp gaze to him even as he made his way across the room.

The brother’s snickered. “You might have a point,” Fili concluded. “But really, who else? I mean-” He glanced to Bifur, his eyes flicking up towards the axe. Bombur had little lap for her to stand on, let alone sit. Gloin might be a good choice but she’d get lost within that beard and he’d likely refuse out of principle because he was already married. He shared a look with his brother. “We could set her between us.”

Kili nodded. “I’m sure uncle won't mind giving up the bed for a night.”

Oin and Doir had the halfling unwrapped to a single blanket. “Leave off it. The both of you wouldn’t be able to keep still long enough and I’ll not have you tossing about in your sleep and injuring her further. Nah, best leave it to Dwalin for now. We can move her to someone else a bit later.” The old healer had her up in his arms and moving towards Dwalin even as Dori still fussed and followed along with the other blankets.

Dwalin at this point had resolved himself to his fate. He knew there was little he could do about it and he had to agree with them in some senses. Being one of the largest, baring Bombur’s kind of large that is, among the group, he’d be able to provide the best warmth to the wee thing. Although he did also agree that she was as likely to be frightened of him when she awoke. He didn’t have Bofur’s kind smile or the young Durin’s sweeter looks.

No Dwalin was all battle scars and ink. His beard left unadorned and full except for the two thick breads at his sideburns capped with heavy iron clasps with his hall and kin runes carved into them. The hair at the sides of his head he kept shaved to show the inked skin and the hair on top cut short to make a frightening crest. He left the rest to fall down his back.

He didn’t kid himself either. He didn’t have the Durin looks like the prince and the boys, though they were kin. His nose was thick and crooked, having been broken more times than he could remember. His chin was strong and his beard, while impressive, had never had the fullness his brother’s had.

Oin settled the halfling in his lap, turning her so she tucked against his chest and he looped an arm about her back to keep her in place. Then Dori swept in and bundled the remaining blankets around them both. Dwalin ground his teeth. It would only take him a few minutes to start sweating under all this. The girl would be likely to stew if he held her too long. He hoped for both their sake's she woke herself up soon.

When Thorin and his brother returned from talking with their host. The prince gave him an amused look. Dwalin sneered.

Bofur, who had been smoking his pipe next to the door, looked up when they entered. “What did the elf have to say?”

“Lord Elrond asked we return her to their healing rooms. However, Thorin here suggested that it might be best if we kept an eye on her.” Balin answered with a small grin.

Bofur smiled, pointing the end of his pipe at his prince. “You didn’t tell him about how we found her, did yah?”

Thorin shrugged and sat down on the edge of the bed. “If she requires more attention than Oin can provide than we’ll bring her to them. Else he’d like to see her once she’s awake.”

Their healer gave a considering hum. “I think she’ll sleep for some hours yet. I’m sure one of us, if not Dwalin, will know when she does.”

As it turned out she slept for the remainder of the day, much to Dwalin’s displease. It wasn’t until second watch when the moon was high that she woke up in the dark room before the glowing campfire.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

_As it turned out she slept for the remainder of the day, much to Dwalin’s displease. It wasn’t until second watch when the moon was high that she woke up in the dark room before the glowing campfire._

She knew these feelings, yet it had been so long since she had felt them. The first of which she noticed was warmth. She was warm. It was all around her and deep inside her. She was warmed to the bone. It was so wonderful. She could barely remember the last time she had been so warm.

On it’s heels came relaxed. So utterly relaxed it felt like every muscle in her body had been turned to jelly. Like if she didn’t have her skin holding her together she’d melt away into a warm, fuzzy puddle of happiness.

She also felt rested. She could not recall sleeping so well since she had left her soft bed back in the Shire. She was sure she had been asleep for days for her to feel this way, yet she knew that couldn’t be right either.

The next was safe. This feeling was fleeting, but while it lasted she felt like she could rest with ease. That no one would or could harm her in this warm, restful safe place.

She blinked open her eyes to darkness and the red hot glow of a campfire and screamed.

There was a clammer and shouting. The ring of drawn metal and she twisted and fought against her bonds. But they were tight and unyielding. Panic gripped her heart. “Please no. No. No.” She couldn’t stop the pleas from falling from her lips. The shadows were big and coming closer. She screwed her eyes tight though she knew that would not save her. They liked to pull her near the fire. Had found it fun to hold her over the licking flames as they laughed. “No. No. No.”

A deep bark said in something she couldn’t understand had the camp falling quiet. She couldn’t stop the whimper as whatever they had bound her too shifted and tighten. She was being moved and did her best to curl up even smaller even if she knew that wouldn’t do any good. They had always enjoyed pulling a reaction from her and she feared playing dead incase they decided they thought she still had enough meat on her bones to be a meal.

Her eyes fluttered open when she was placed down again. This time on a much cooler, flat surface. She was in a room. It was suddenly so much brighter now. Someone had lit candles. Before her a bear of a dwarf was moving back. He did so slowly, his hands at his sides. She found herself suddenly frowning.

Her head turned at the soft approach of another. This one shared the same nose as the first, though his beard was snow white. “Now there. We mean ya no harm, miss.”

There were so many bearded faces peering at her. Her eyes lingered on a pair of youngsters for a moment before drifting about the room itself. White smooth walls with delicate arches. Elven in design. It was slow but she remembered now where she was.

These were the dwarves. The ones she had overheard the elves saying had saved her.

When she had first woken she had thought it to be some kind of dream but then everyone was shouting and looking for her. She hadn’t thought twice about hiding. That was when she had heard them talking, though most of what they had said she hadn’t understood. She knew enough elvish to exchange greetings and some shorter sentences but really that was all. From what she had gathered the group of dwarves staying in Rivendell had killed the orcs and brought her here. Though they had appeared oddly angry and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out way.

So she had sought them out. If it was true that they had killed the orcs then she owed them her thanks and if nothing else was curious of them. She had never seen a dwarf before. She had caught a few sightings of elves, but only in passing. However she had not counted on the size of the elven settlement when she set out on her search and as the day passed on and night set in, she found herself slowly being gripped by a growing chill.

The shadows lengthened and seemed to grab at her. There were howls and calls on the wind which was cold without the sun. She missed the sun and its warmth and couldn’t stop herself from jumping at every little sound. She was also hungry. She had filled herself with water from a fountain but it was not food. She needed to find something real to eat.

She spent the first night dozing in a cupboard wrapped in a musty sheet. She had been too afraid to sleep. Too hungry to be comfortable and while not overly cold, she was far from warm clad only in the simple shift the elves had apparently dressed her in. The next day she managed to sneak a small bit of food but there were so many elves. She only managed to take a small handful of berries from the bush near their kitchen’s garden before she was forced to hide again as the servants fluttered through the area.

By the second day she seemed to be no closer to her goal of finding the ones who had found her. By this point she was so tired that she was walking aimlessly as the sun began to set on another day and the same panic started to tug at her heart. It was only when she was fleeing, looking for a small space to hide for the night that she caught the scent of a campfire on the breeze. Her feet fixed her in place and had it not been for the sounds of laughter she might have stood there all night.

Her eyes dropped to her lap, her hands lifting in the blankets still wrapped about her. She fingered the material. It was rough, but thick and warm. There were several of them about her person and she tugged one higher up her back to keep back the cool chill which had settled there. It was like something very warm had been pressed against her, only to be removed. She frowned.

Balin shared a look with his brother who shrugged and cast his eyes to their prince. Thorin in turn was frowning heavily, his eyes fixed on the small cowering form lost amongst the blankets. With a deep sigh, the royal advisor took a tentative step forward. The halfling’s eyes quickly jumped to him and he put his hands up. “Easy now. As I said, we mean you no ill will. My brother Dwalin here,” he indicated the massive intimidating dwarf beside him. “Found you unconscious out in the gardens and brought you back here.”

“Yeah! He’s the one who warmed you all up- Ouch! Fee?” The darker haired youngster pouted and she marked them as brothers as well. She watched as a blond one put another elbow into the other’s ribs.

“I wouldn’t be worryin’ about this bunch, lass,” said a dwarf to her left with a long hanging mustache and a rough looking furred hat. He flashed her a dimpled grin. “We really don’t mean ya anything save for the desire to see ya alright and back on your feet again. You’ve given us a good scare already.” He removed his hat as he bowed his head. “Bofur, at your service. The big fellow here is Dwalin. His brother Balin. The others are Dori, Nori, Ori is the one in the corner there. My brother Bombur is the one by the fire and those two rascals are Kili and Fili.” Each nodded in turn. ”Gloin and Oin. Oin’s our healer. He’s the one that tended to your hurts when we first found you. At leaves my cousin Bifur there. He doesn’t speak Westron I’m afraid and last but not least our leader and prince, Thorin.”

They looked back at her expectantly and it only served to make her lift the covers around herself as if to hide.

“Get some rest,” Thorin snapped causing everyone in the room to jump. “We’ll inform Lord Elrond about the halfling in the morning.” When his eye swept over her, she cowered back into the blankets. With a sign Thorin returned to the bed, knocking his sister-sons on the back of their heads before tucking himself between them.

The others were much slower to return to their beds and even still it's clear that they were still very much awake. The one smoking near the door with the hat just shifted in place a bit and made no move to lay down. The larger dwarf by the fire was fussing with something leaving the two brothers, Balin and Dwalin the only ones still standing.

She cannot help but flinch back when Dwalin, with his intimidating appearance and all too large size, stares down at her again. As such he’s swift to turn from the room without another word.

Balin settles a respectable distance from her side. “Don’t mind him, lass. Likely gone off to stretch his legs a bit. He’ll be back.” She wasn’t worried he’d not come back, she nearly said but stayed quiet. “And what’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking.”

She’s at first inclined to ignore his question, but these dwarves had made no moved to harm her and as she sit there the rounder one carefully approaches with a bowl of something warm between his hands and leaves the dish on the floor within reach before returning to his bedroll for the night.

The hatted dwarf on her other side chuckled lightly. “Bombur’s been making sure he had something ready for ya so you could have something ta eat as soon as you got up. Nothing too heavy, he said. Since it looks like you’ve had too little of late.”

Now that she could smell it, she noticed just how hungry she was. She reached out with shaky hands. The thin soup was almost too hot, but she didn’t care. It was wonderful and warmed her nicely. She was sad when it was finished all too quickly.

“Give that a moment to settle, and I’ll see about getting you something else to eat,” said Balin as he ran a hand down his white forked beard.

She turned the bowl around between her hands. “Bellianna,” Her voice was softer than Balin expected it to be. “But most call me Bell…”

Balin grinned. “Well then, Bell, why not see about getting some more rest if you can. I know our hosts will want to talk with you in the morning.” The old dwarf didn’t miss her longing gaze as she set the bowl down before beginning to arrange the blankets. Rising slowly so not to startle her, he snagged a full loaf of elvish bread from their store hidden in Bombur’s pack. Most of them found it a bit too sweet for their tastes. Though his brother loved the stuff. Not overly surprising, given his well know, yet hidden, love of sweets. The single loaf wouldn’t be missed and easily replaced so he found no harm in giving it to the wee thing.

Her wary eyes at his approach was a hard things for the old dwarf to bare and although she thanked him quietly as she took it from his hands, the hesitation and mistrust was hard not to notice. With a meaningful look to Bofur who happened to have second watch for some hours yet, Balin returned to his bedroll near the foot of the bed.

When Dwalin returned to their room some hours later Dori sat on watch outside their room. He nodded to him as he passed. Inside the fire was low and his eyes automatically sought out the halfling. She had made a little nest in the corner of the room. Her face nearly completely lost amongst the blankets and as quiet as he tries to be his heavy boots are enough to wake her.

She jerks awake with a sudden intake of breath and Dwalin freezes where he stands just on the other side of Bofur’s slumped and sleeping form, the dwarf lying between them.

She blinks almost too large of eyes. He cannot be sure what colour they might be in the low firelight. But the look reminds him of a deer he’d once seen on his travels. He’d come across the slight thing near a river when he’d gone to look for water. It had startled as he’d come through the bushes yet hadn’t taken flight. Instead the doe had stood there frozen, dark eyes fixed, nose and ears twitching. Its entire body had been as taut as a bow string.

He did now like he had done then and raised his hands from his sides. “Easy, lass.” Her eyes jumped from his hands to his face and back again but she was already pulling her legs in, making herself a smaller target. Inwardly he sighed, the deer had also fled from him.

Thinking it best, and since she had been at ease enough to sleep before his arrival, he turned and picked his way across the sleeping forms of his companions. There wasn’t a lot of space but a swift kick into Gloins back had the other dwarf rolling over enough for the warrior to settle against the wall close to the head of the bed. It was the furthest he could get from her within the space. Even still he tried to ignore her eyes which had followed him.

It was too soon to dawn to bother with sleeping and he had stretched his legs enough. In truth he had little idea what to do with himself till the others got up so he busied his hands by cleaning his weapons.  

 


End file.
